I Call First: Who’s That Knocking at My Door?

Who's That Knocking At My Door movie poster

 

Mar­tin Scorsese’s first fea­ture film Who’s That Knock­ing at My Door? was shot over the course of sev­eral years, and was orig­i­nally released in 1967 as I Call First. Its piece­meal ori­gins are betrayed by two dis­crete sequences: one recount­ing the mis­ad­ven­tures of a group of slacker friends in down­town New York, and a very dif­fer­ent, more char­ac­ter and dialogue-driven love story between J.R. (Kei­tel) and the unnamed “Girl on the Staten Island Ferry” (Zina Bethune).

Non-linear cross-cutting between the two adds up to more than the sum of their parts. J.R. is increas­ingly hes­i­tant to horse around with his gang­ster friends, a lifestyle involv­ing shak­ing down debtors, ter­ror­iz­ing each other with loaded pis­tols, and going uptown to get with — and then rob — gullible girls. His ret­i­cence is explained by a par­al­lel sequence in which he meets cute with The Girl. Sim­i­larly, their young courtship is given weight by the audience’s knowl­edge of what he’s done with his life so far, and how dras­tic a change he faces by con­sid­er­ing mar­ry­ing her.

Harvey Keitel in Who's That Knocking at My DoorThe pas­sion of Har­vey Keitel

J.R. is much more sen­si­tive than his brutish chums to the splen­dor of nature and to the cathar­sis of cin­ema. His idea of seduc­ing a girl is to lec­ture her on Hol­ly­wood West­erns, John Ford’s The Searchers (1956) in par­tic­u­lar. His mod­els of mas­culin­ity come from the movies, espe­cially John Wayne and Lee Mar­vin, and he divides women into two cat­e­gories: broads and girls (which is another way of say­ing whores and madon­nas). The Girl is savvy enough to know what she’s get­ting into; she clearly catches his mean­ing when he slips and openly refers to her as a broad.

Another piece to the puz­zle was a sex mon­tage added in order to ensure dis­tri­b­u­tion. Scors­ese scores J.R.‘s fan­tasy of sex with a series of women to The Doors’ “The End”, later of course also to become a key ingre­di­ent to his peer Fran­cis Ford Coppola’s mas­ter­piece Apoc­a­lypse Now! (1979).

Harvey Keitel and Zina Bethune in Who's That Knocking at My DoorJ.R. (Har­vey Kei­tel) knows how to romance Zina Bethune: “Let me tell you some­thing, that girl in that pic­ture was a broad”

Hold­ing every­thing together is a fram­ing device in the form of a flash­back to young J.R. being served food by his mother (Cather­ine Scors­ese, Scrosese’s own mother). It’s an obvi­ously happy mem­ory, but we learn that the core theme of the film is that J.R. is emo­tion­ally crip­pled by the Catholic guilt instilled by his fam­ily and upbring­ing. He is unable to con­sum­mate the rela­tion­ship with the girl he loves, and who loves him back. When he finds out she’s a vic­tim of rape, he alter­nates between not believ­ing the facts and blam­ing her. Even in the end, he sees her rape as some­thing he must for­give her for. The penul­ti­mate sequence is a mon­tage of Catholic iconog­ra­phy set to the title track by The Genies.


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Ridley Scott’s The Duellists

Ridley Scott

The Duellists movie poster

 

Rid­ley Scott’s first fea­ture film The Duel­lists (1977) is based on the Joseph Con­rad short story “The Duel.” Fer­aud (Har­vey Kei­tel) and D’Hubert (Keith Car­ra­dine), two French sol­diers serv­ing under Napoleon, become loyal ene­mies locked in a life­long adver­sar­ial rela­tion­ship. D’Hubert, eager to appease his supe­ri­ors and advance his career, vol­un­teers for a mis­sion in which he obliv­i­ously humil­i­ates Fer­aud. Both men are at fault: D’Hubert for his ambi­tion, and Fer­aud for obses­sively nurs­ing his per­pet­ual griev­ance. Their per­sonal bat­tles super­sede French his­tory, with even the reign and fall of Napoleon a mere back­drop to their per­sonal feud.

Harvey Keitel in The DuellistsDon’t let the frilly sleeves fool you, Fer­aud (Har­vey Kei­tel) will frite your pommes and manger your croissant

The Duel­lists is respected for the his­tor­i­cal authen­tic­ity of its French mil­i­tary uni­forms and depic­tions of period wartime con­duct, but Kei­tel and Carradine’s flat Amer­i­can accents threaten to undo its achieve­ments in verisimil­i­tude. Luck­ily, the impor­tant bits, the duels, are staged silently. Scott, with his back­ground in adver­tis­ing, films every­thing beau­ti­fully, although one does catch glimpses of the occa­sional lamp and smoke machine. The land­scapes dur­ing the final duel are espe­cially breathtaking.

Keith Carradine in The DuellistsKeith Car­ra­dine is a comin’ ta getcha, Mr. White!

I’ve seen hardly any of Carradine’s movies, but I do have great respect for his bril­liant por­trayal of one of America’s first celebri­ties, Wild Bill Hickok, in the HBO series Dead­wood. And Kei­tel gets to show off his seri­ous mus­cles in a gra­tu­itous arm-wrestling sequence.


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